Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's.
"Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf
of yesterday's."
Sorry?
Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's.
Tickets, please.
How's work?
- You've already asked me that. - Yes. Yes.
You're keeping well?
Pretty much.
I feel a change.
I had two heart attacks and had to have an abortion
because I did crack while I was pregnant.
Other than that, I'm fine.
Good.
Is something wrong?
No, nothing.
Your garden gnome's gone.
Is he back in the tool shed?
Moscow.
There.
No explanation.
Maybe he just wanted to see the world.
I can't understand it.
[LOST... BAG... PHOTOS]
Any normal girl would call the number straightaway,
meet him at a café to return the album.
Then she would know if her dream was viable.
It's called a reality check, but it's the last thing Amélie wants.
I say!
She's not falling in love, is she?
...and 30 makes 50. - Thanks, Lucien.
Yes, ladies?
- A pound of leeks. - Two artichokes.
OK.
- Where's the boss? - Shh! He's sleeping in the cauliflowers.
What?
He's sleeping in the cauliflowers.
Oh, right.
You want me... want what?
A scratch card, please.
How does it work?
Tell you what.
I'll take one too, and we'll do this together.
You scratch it here...
...sideways.
Nothing. You?
No, me neither.
Unlucky at cards...
So they say!
I have to get back.
OK. See you.
Porno Video Palace.
I'm calling about the ad.
- Are you over 18? - Yes.
- Shaved? - Sorry?
Are you shaved? Fur pie doesn't sell.
How's life, Mrs. Wells?
When you've nothing to live for...
- Don't say that. Life's great! - Sure. Dream on, kid!
Hello, Mr. Dufayel.
Hello, Lucien.
Here's your order, Mr. Dufayel.
I doubt it. I hate artichokes.
You shouldn't.
Watch this.
Take it.
That's better.
Lucien, you're a wizard!
All courtesy of Mr. Collignon.
Mr. Collignon? Lucien...
Sorry, Mr. Dufayel. It just slipped out.
Practice, Lucien!
Practice!
Repeat after me.
Collignon, down the john.
- Col... Collignon, down the john. - That's it.
Your turn now. Go on. Collignon...
Collignon, big moron!
See? You can do it when you want to!
Collignon, dead and gone!
Very good!
Collignon...
- Collignon, big moron, down the john! - That's it!
OK! That's enough for today.
Enough! Enough!
Lucien, stop!
Very good.
Mr. Dufayel, I found this under your mat.
Still no win!
Me neither.
May I?
There's a little...
You're gorgeous
when you blush.
Like a wild flower.
It's my dyspepsia.
Morning, all.
Beautiful day.
Pack of Gitanes, please.
Bravo! Vive la France! You scalded me.
Bravo! Ten out of ten! Bull's-eye!
It was Amélie. She...
Do you know what happened when they went up Mont Blanc?
The silicon in her face froze up.
Her face was a festering mass!
Mulled wine and ginger biscuits.
Thank you.
I was too hard the other day on the girl with the glass.
Tell me about that boy she saw. Did they meet again?
No.
They're into different things.
Luck is like the Tour de France.
You wait, and it flashes past you.
You have to catch it while you can.
Can I help you?
Excuse me. I found this album in the street and I...
Nino will be so pleased! He was so sad the other day.
I almost prayed to St Anthony.
Is... Nino there?
No. On Wednesdays he works at the funfair.
How long has he had this collection?
Since I got him the job here, last year.
Before, he collected footprints. He worked nights.
In the daytime he took pictures of footprints in wet cement.
He's a funny guy.
When we met, he was a Santa Claus.
Other things like...
Whenever he heard a funny laugh, he'd tape it.
Really?
Must be hard for his girlfriend.
He never keeps them long.
Times are hard for dreamers.
Eva! Where are those coffees?
I'd better go. Thanks for the album.
It's OK. I've got time to take it to the funfair.
Suit yourself. The ghost train. Ask for Nino Quincampoix, like the street.
I'm looking for Nino. Is he here?
He doesn't get off till seven.
- Is there no way to see him before? - Sure.
20 francs.
See you next Wednesday.
5pm tomorrow, Montmartre carousel near the phone box. Bring a 5 franc piece.
Want to know about her?
- You know her? You saw her? - You bet.
She put us in her shirt pocket.
Next to her breast.
Is she pretty?
Not bad.
- Beautiful. - No, pretty.
- Beautiful. - Pretty.
- What does she want from you? - She's broke.
She wants a reward for the album.
Or she collects photos, too.
She wants to trade us for a one-eyed man with glasses!
No, you dope!
She's in love.
- I don't even know her. - Yes, you do.
Since when?
You've always known her.
In your dreams.
Hello?
Yes. You! Man with the plastic bag! It's for you.
- Me? - Yes.
Thank you.
Hello?
Follow the blue arrows, Mr. Quincampoix.
When the finger's pointing to the sky, only a fool looks at the finger.
Hello?
I know the stranger in the pictures.
He's a ghost. He's invisible, Mr. Quincampoix.
He only appears when the film is developed.
When a girl has her photo taken,
he goes "Oooh!" in her ear, while he gently caresses her neck.
That's how he got caught, Mr. Quincampoix.
Who are you?
Page 51.
[DO YOU
WANT
TO MEET ME?]
Listen to this. "A boy of six,
while his parents sleep, drives off
in a pedal car.
Found on a motorway near Münster in Germany,
he told the police he wanted to see the stars."
Isn't life beautiful, eh?
Love. The only bug she hadn't caught!
- Nobody's immune. - At least it gives me a break.
Love's a great beautician.
What's she like? Tall? Small? Blonde? Dark?
Let's say... average height.
Not a dwarf or a giraffe. Normal.
Pretty, for her type.
As for blonde or dark...
...it's hard to say, but she wasn't a redhead.
- Unless... - Forget it.
I do remember she casually asked if you had a girlfriend.
And?
I said you weren't interested, right?
You didn't!
What do you care? You don't even know her.
- Exactly. It's the mystery. - You won't find mystery here.
A pound of nectarines, please.
These ones here are the prettiest.
Trust him. He's an artist!
He's been going home every night with tons of unsold stock.
What for? Is he stewing a pig?
No, sir! He's studying art!
He sells leeks all day long and paints turnips all night!
The boy's a useless vegetable.
A good prompter
in each cellar window whispering cutting retorts
would mean shy people had the last laugh.
At least you'll never be a vegetable.
Even artichokes
have hearts.
You'll never be a vegetable. Even artichokes have hearts!
Memory seven.
Darling Mado, I miss you more and more each day.
I'm an exile in a world of dreary khaki.
I can't sleep, can't eat...
This camp was the biggest mistake of my life,
depriving me of my beloved for five long weeks.
I think of you endlessly. Your Adrien.
I turned down my last month's wages instead of giving notice.
I dream of better times ahead.
An orange-coloured day. Remember, my love?
Your ever-loving Adrien.
Good news, darling Mado.
Soon I'll be able to afford a car
and drive home every night.
Till then, meet me on Friday and we'll go out.
[MOTHER]
Psychiatric Helpline.
Hello? Hello?
[WHERE & WHEN?]
One hour later at 11 Boulevard St Martin,
Amélie walks into a party goods and costume shop.
At the same time, a man leaves his home at 108 Rue Lecourbe.
26 minutes later, Amélie is at the photo booth at the Gare de I'Est.
Simultaneously, the man in red shoes parks outside.
The time is exactly 11:40.
At this precise moment,
only Amélie has the key to the riddle of the mystery man.
How's it going, Mrs. Wells?
It's always better when it's not raining.
- This is for you. - Me?
Dear Mrs. Wells, We recently recovered a mailbag
that was lost in a plane crash
on October 12th 1969 on Mont Blanc.
We are forwarding the enclosed letter to your address.
Please accept our apologies for the uncustomary delay.
Jacques Grosjean, Customer Services.
Darling Mado, I'm in exile. I can't sleep, can't eat.
I think of you endlessly.
I know I've made the biggest mistake of my life.
I turned down that woman's money.
If all goes well, I'll soon be able to afford a house.
I dream of better times ahead
when you'll forgive me and join me here
one orange-coloured day. Your ever-loving Adrien.
Mr. Dufayel, another package for you.
Mr. Dufayel, do you know what happened to the concierge?
She got a letter.
From her husband. 40 years late.
That's a lot, isn't it, Mr. Dufayel?
I'm not big on still life, Mr. Dufayel.
Then work on your thin layer.
Fat over thin. Always!
- Mr. Dufayel... - Yes!
The papers said that there'll soon be a new star.
- So you're into stars now? - I saw it on TV at my mum's, that's why.
I don't know if it's true.
In America
they're going to take all the rich people's ashes,
put them in a satellite
and shoot it into space.
The satellite's going to shine for ever.
And Lady Di...
Will they do the same for her?
Lady Di, Lady Di!
Give it a rest!
I can't concentrate.
Lady Di!
Renoir.
Morning, sir.
Cambodia.
I don't understand.
Brilliant! You couldn't have done better.
- Did it work? - It's getting there.
Ask me again any time. The harm's done.
- What do you mean? - Everybody calls me Snow White!
[The Two Windmills café from 4pm.]
- Eva? - Yes?
Could you stand in for me at four?
Again?
Close the door!
What's up with him?
Is he sulking?
- He thinks I smile too much. - He'd rather you frowned?
With other men, yes.
Nino is late. Amélie can only think of two possible explanations.
Firstly, that he didn't find the photo.
Secondly, before he could assemble it,
a gang of bank robbers took him hostage.
The cops gave chase.
They got away,
but he caused a crash.
When he came to,
he'd lost his memory,
An ex-con picked him up,
mistook him for a fugitive, and shipped him to Istanbul.
He met some Afghan raiders,
who took him to steal some Russian warheads.
But their truck hit a mine at the border with Tajikistan.
He survived, took to the hills, and became a Mujaheddin.
Amélie refuses to get upset for a guy
who'll eat borscht all his life in a hat like a tea cosy.
- What can I get you? - A coffee, please.
A coffee.
Here's your coffee.
Thank you.
[Today's menu]
He's understood.
He's going to put his teaspoon down,
dip his finger in the sugar,
turn around slowly,
and speak to me.
Excuse me.
Is this you?
Yes, it's you.
I'll take that.
Another coffee?
- No, thanks. I'm fine. - OK.
So it's this man here, the one with his hand up?
Yes.
Is she in love with him?
Yes.
I think it's time she took a real risk.
She might just do that. She's devising a stratagem.
She's fond of stratagems.
Yes.
In fact, she's cowardly.
That's why I can't capture her look.
Dufayel's attempts to meddle are intolerable!
If Amélie chooses to live in a dream
and remain an introverted young woman,
she has an absolute right to mess up her life!
What are you doing, Mr. Dufayel?
Tell me, Lucien.
For deliveries, do you keep keys to all the apartments?
One of your booths is out of order.
It seems to be jammed.
Gare de I'Est ticket hall.
- Buy a video, get one free. - No, thanks.
Sam?
Samantha?
Can you stand in for me at...
Photo booth, Gare de I'Est ticket hall, Tuesday 5pm.
[Can you stand in for me this afternoon?]
Almost done.
The mystery man wasn't a ghost or a man scared of ageing,
but simply the repairman,
a normal guy doing his job.
Sorry.
He keeps spying on me! It's making me sick.
4:05: Blatant female conspiracy.
Gosh, you're tense, Georgette!
Good luck. You'll need it.
Excuse me. Did you put this in my pocket?
- Yes, but I'm not the one... - I know. Where is she?
She's at her father's.
It's awkward. I'd like to speak to you, but... I finish work at six.
- Can you come back? - OK.
See you later.
4:08: Docking scheduled.
The blond guy in a camel coat. He's very absent-minded, too.
How come?
He came back three times the same afternoon.
1:12:
Camel coat.
2:50:
Camel coat.
- 4:17: Camel coat. - Stop it!
My rash has come back! Look, Suzanne!
My rash is back. He's driving me nuts.
Lay off!
If she had a clear conscience, she wouldn't be in such a state.
I've had it. I'm going home.
Psychos are the last straw!
Georgette! Georg...
Stop smothering them! Women need to breathe.
You let them breathe, they want a change of air.
Fresh air's healthy.
Shut it, failure!
Failed writer, failed life...
I love the word "fail".
Failure is human destiny.
It's gasbag time!
Failure teaches us that life is but a draft,
a long rehearsal for a show that will never play.
I bet he stole that.
I do have some original ideas,
but people always steal them. A bit like your women.
Meaning?
Meaning you'd better get used to it.
Speak for yourself, you...
What?
- What's going on? - Nothing much. Georgette went out.
Joseph got mad.
"Went out?"
Just like Gina. You know who's she's with? The guy with the plastic bag.
I saw their little game.
The note in the coat pocket,
4:08.
Back he comes, and hey presto! Out they go.
- I'm worried for Amélie because I like you. - What do you mean?
By and large, the men I like are mentally unsound.
- I'd like to know more about you. - Ask me questions.
One swallow doesn't make...?
A swallow?
A summer.
And clothes...?
The man.
- A good cat deserves...? - A rat.
- Patience...? - Is a virtue.
- Rolling stone...? - Gathers no moss.
- It's a sin...? - To steal a pin.
Absence makes...?
The heart grow fonder.
- Not bad. - You collect them?
In my family, we say a man who knows his proverbs can't be all bad.
Pretty girl from the 5th floor, listen to this!
- Do you believe in miracles? - Not today.
You're in for a surprise.
What if I told you that a team of climbers
on Mont Blanc had found
hard proof that my husband loved me?
Lucien, I need some yeast.
For Miss Amélie? She's baking her famous plum cake?
Collignon! Go and get the yeast.
Amélie?
[I'll be back]
Go into the bedroom, Miss Poulain.
So, little Amélie,
your bones aren't made of glass.
You can take life's knocks.
If you let this chance go by,
eventually your heart will become
as dry and brittle as my skeleton.
So...
Go and get him, for pete's sake!
[Without you, today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's]
International airport.
September 28th 1997. It is exactly 11am.
At the funfair, near the ghost train,
the marshmallow twister is twisting.
Meanwhile, on a bench in Villette Square,
Félix Lerbier learns there are more links in his brain than atoms in the universe.
Meanwhile,
at the Sacré Cœur, the nuns are practising their backhand.
The temperature is 24°C,
humidity 70%,
atmospheric pressure 999 millibars.